


Of Mirrors and Shadows

by starkind



Series: This Is It Boys, This Is War [4]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DC Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Childhood Friends, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Iron Bat - Freeform, Male Friendship, Not The Dark Knight Rises Compliant, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkind/pseuds/starkind
Summary: In a way, Bruce was both Tony's mirror and shadow.Because mirrors never lie and shadows never leave.(... even if mirrors crack and shadows become invisible as the sun approaches its zenith)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Son of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721016) by [NegativNein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegativNein/pseuds/NegativNein). 



> I somehow felt the need to write some Tony and Bruce friendship for once? *scratches head* Well, why the heck not; been a while xD
> 
> Also, this was inspired by the uber-talented NegativNein and that gem of a series called 'Until the End of the World'. If you haven't already - go read it. Now. It's oh-so satisfying for many a bruised souls after CA:CW! 
> 
> @ NN: This author is, by all means, no economist either, but something about your take on Wakanda and its business relations post-Civil War haywired my crack-prone brain, thus... this was born. Also, I am looking forward to more IronBat shenanigans from your pen!

The first time Tony dialed the landline, he briefly wondered if the number was still valid. It had, after all, been some time, and there had been talk about temporary public ownership and orphanages. Not that Tony believed in gossip, but he would not put it past his childhood buddy to give away his crib.

“Wayne Estate, Pennyworth speaking.”  
Apart from the fact that gossip was just that. Gossip.  
“Yeah - hi, this is Tony. Tony Stark. Is the man behind the myth in by any chance?”  
  
He pictured the butler to be the same, stoic Edwin Jarvis clone he had always been, except by now he was probably a lot grayer and wrinklier. Or, maybe, Al was secretly a time wizard who defied all laws of human longevity. Living with that protege of his would take ages off of _any_ rational human being.  
  
“One moment, Sir.”  
Just as Tony remembered there was no on hold music, he was already put through.  
“Yes?”

“Boo Boo Bear! How's it going?”  
A sigh that was politely toned down to a cleared throat could be heard.  
“You are neither dying, nor broke, nor in need of a best man. What could you possibly want?”

“Brucie, you're breaking my heart. Can I not call you just to chat a little?”

“I don't know. Can you?”

Tony chuckled, more out of habit than embarrassment and leaned back to put crossed ankles up on his desktop. “Okay then, for the record: The only thing I am dying of is boredom, I need a full screen to properly see all of the numbers on my bank account these days, and there's no way in hell a demigod like me should ever consider marriage. Imagine the public outcry of all women out there.”

“Humility's still not your best trait, I see.”

“Some days I wake up thinking what if I was smart, rich, and incredibly badass? But then it's like: Oh wait, _I am!_ So, to answer your question: Not really.”

“What is it you want from me, except bragging about your inflated status and ego problems?”

“Puh-lease, Boo Boo, what's with that attitude? After all, I didn't gripe at you for snatching that Forbes Global 2000 pole position earlier this year.”

“You didn't send your congratulations either, so your argument is weak.”

Tony stopped inspecting the faint specks of motor grease under his thumbnail and hummed something like consent into the phone. “I was in a bit of a tight spot around that time, admittedly. Which is, to cut a long story short, the reason I need to talk to you. I'm sure you are familiar with the recent events which involved a certain guy in a Vibranium suit who is heavy on the martial arts and capoeira.”

“I am.”

“I'd be in the mood for a little think-tanking on how to bring the big bad kitty down for good.”

“I don't hold any grudges against King T'Challa and his country. Our business relations are stable.”

“For now. A little birdy just told me Wakanda has agreed to heavy tariffs and export quotas regarding Vibranium. I don't think Wayne Enterprises and its subsidiaries are keen on any economic boycotts, especially after you've just managed to claw your way back to the top, am I right or am I right?” Silence on the other end. Before Bruce could launch boring drivel on how that was a topic for his CEO, Tony played out his final card.

“Besides, Wakanda's Number One is committing high treason with aiding a bunch of criminals to hide under his wing these days. Haven't you heard?” Spinning the wheel of justice always worked with Bruce's severe case of morals, Tony remembered with fondness. Telling him his intel was lacking was a Stark-Exclusive that just added a personal touch. A personal touch that spoke of decades of a seemingly incongruous friendship.

“What kind of criminals?”

“My former buddy beefcake Steve and his best buddy with the metal 'Franklin's kite experiment' arm.”

Bruce once more lapsed into silence. It was something that had always driven Tony up the wall, even way back in the days. Even as a kid, the Gothamite would retreat to the unfathomable depths of his psyche during a conversation about trivial things; be that the proper statics of a tree house, whether Flash Gordon was superior to Buck Rogers, or why soccer was no better than fencing.

On the one hand, it was worse experiencing it on the phone because he could not poke Bruce out of his trance. On the other hand, Tony was not at risk losing a limb over the line. Thus he cleared his throat. “So what it's gonna be? Boo Boo's gonna help out his good friend Yogi? For old times' sake?” Old times' sake in their case referred to the first year at boarding school, way back in the days.

During the first month, reticent Wayne Jr had been a great target for closet bullying until Stark Jr stepped in with an unbelievable level of sass for his age and staged an intervention. At some point, however, a shift occurred - together with a growth spurt - and Bruce had tall, spooky and menacing down pat. His alter ego should become any psychologist's wet dream a little later, but then again, who was Tony to talk.

“We can talk, but it's not going to be about pathetic little revenge stunts.”  
Bruce's voice was still beyond any level of empathy.  
“So what about admirable, big revenge stunts then?”  
  
Could an eye roll be audible over the line?  
Tony figured it could.  
Wayne exhaled deep and with purpose.  
  
“Give me the code for your garage.”

~

As soon as Bruce and he met up in person, Tony knew it was the right decision. Wayne arrived on a badass looking and sounding superbike, taller and broader than he remembered him to be. He also wore a 'mess with the best, die like the rest' attitude that seemed to radiate off of him from a distance. Maybe, Tony pondered, he had watched too many reruns of 'Hackers' lately and Bruce was just mad dogging as usual.

Wayne secured his machine with swift, expertise motions and slipped the helmet off. Tony almost grinned at the way he managed to look like someone out of a commercial while doing it. “Welcome to the GBP den.” Bruce humored him and gripped his upheld hand in a brief but firm handshake. “GBP?” He followed him into a private elevator where Tony swiped a thin card over a sensor and the doors closed soundlessly.  
  
“Genius Billionaire Philanthropists. I'm considering team jackets but cannot decide on a logo.” Tony's snark-laden facade then dropped to reveal a rare, honest smile. “Good to see you again, Boo. Been a while.” The Gothamite looped a hand through the open visor of his helmet and dropped his ever-present scowl. “Three and a half years, Yogi. I'm surprised you haven't gone off the rails yet.”

At that, Tony's Cheshire-Cat grin crept back in place. They did not talk feelings. Never had, never would.

“Aw, someone's been counting. Missed me that much, eh?” Bruce's scowl was back. “Like warts.” Tony expression turned to disgust. “Save your STD home stories for later.” Wayne smirked. “That one evening in your Jacuzzi is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.” With something akin to a mock bow, Tony stepped aside as the doors opened. “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice – eh, whatevs. Come in.”

~

Bruce had only been twice to Stark Tower before.

The first time he had to wear a hard hat in bright yellow, along with some ill-fitting safety Wellington boots, and trudged along the construction site behind his friend through puddles of sleet and mud, because Tony wanted to 'share his vision of clean energy'. Back then, Bruce had been overworked, dead tired, and suffering from just having escaped a manhunt of the GCPD on his darker persona.

The second time he was invited to New York, Bruce had to wear that stupid hard hat again, because, apparently, the only time Tony ever thought about him was during massive renovation periods – no matter if they were caused by absurd alien invasions or not. At that time, Tony had been overworked, dead tired, and suffering from just having escaped a closing wormhole by a hair's breadth.

“How d'you like it? Beats your undertaker playground by far, I bet.”  
In all fairness, Bruce had been petty enough to never even suggest showing his cave to Tony.  
“Disappointing. I at least expected some open walls and cables laying around for a homey feel.”

“Guess who's getting a hard hat collection for his next birthday now.”  
They walked the last flight of stairs, of which there were many, Bruce noted, up to the workshop.  
“I might just need them with all of that MC Esher's Relativity homage you've got going on here.”

Tony laughed out loud; no cynicism involved in what was the first time since their non-sappy reunion.  
“Feel free to fall down the stairs and pick a room. Got a lot of vacancies around these days.”  
Bruce eyed him and the faint bruising atop his cheekbone as they strode up the stairs side by side.

“Avenging probably isn't your professional field.”  
That time, the laugh that followed was vocalized cynicism.  
“Looks like it.”

The lofty workshop welcomed them with a soft, humming noise and technology as far as the eye could see.  
To the expectant gaze of his friend, Bruce Wayne put his arms akimbo and tilted his head.  
“Not bad.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I miscalculated. This is now a three-parter seeing the boys just love to talk/snark. A lot. Some comic- and/or movieverse tidbits are mentioned in this one, though none of them require additional tags because Tony and Bruce are just exchanging rumors and spreading gossip (this is no The Nanny AU, however. Not yet ;))

Over ginger tea for Bruce and an isotonic drink for Tony, they sat down and talked. Bruce got that certain look in his eyes when Tony recapped Siberia and all the disaster that led to it, and fell silent. Tony deemed it unwise to attempt to poke him at that point and instead stood up to refill his already empty tea cup. “Hey, remember that little dickhead kid who always used to break my stuff at boarding school?”

“Tiberius Stone?”  
Tony nodded with vigor.  
“Yeah. That dwerp. You were the only one he was always wary of.”

“I bought his company Viastone for Wayne Technologies back in 2011, I think.”  
Stark pointed with the electric kettle into his direction.  
“See? Wary with good reason. Now give me all that conglomerate overlord attitude and channel it towards Wakanda with me.”

The left corner of Wayne's mouth turned upwards.  
“As much as I'd love to buy the nation of Wakanda for you, I'm afraid that would put even me out of financial commission.”  
An amicable smile, followed by a devilishly raised eyebrow.

“Nah Boo, I'd never ask that. All I want from you is to help me even out the odds, seeing it's been a lucky strike they got so filthy rich.”  
Bruce watched the steam curl inside his refilled mug.  
“Wakanda became abundant in Vibranium after a meteorite crash.”

The couch dipped in as Tony flung himself into its other end.  
“Yeah, talk about unfair acts of Force Majeure. I want to go into their stash. Minimize it. Destroy it.”  
That prompted his friend to click his tongue and slide the cup back on the table to cool off.

“You know that the more energy Vibranium absorbs, the stronger its intermolecular bonds get.” Tony stretched like a cat until his toes poked Bruce's ribcage. Better to nip it in the bud while Bruce was not in brooding mode. “Yes. So it's unwise to just hook it up to a shitload of C4 and hope for the best, but we could work our way around the topic of incomplete energy transfer efficiency. Because Vibranium _can_ be overloaded.”

“Or combined with something else to make it even more sustainable.”

“Meaning what?”

“Adamantium.”

Tony looked at him as if he had suggested getting a joint vasectomy. “The artificial synthesis of steel and vibranium? It's never been tested successfully.” At that, Bruce's smile became sharp and lenient at the same time. It was a peculiar mixture, and one he pulled off all too well, Tony inwardly mused. “The Weapon X program bonded Adamantium to a human skeleton structure.”  
  
A sturdy finger was up in Wayne's face that instant, wiggling in front of his nose.  
“And that's some highly confidential, straight down to Area 51 shit. How'd you get that intel?”  
More lenience; up to a point where it almost drove Tony nuts.

“Because I'm B...”

“DON'T say it!”

Bruce gave a shrug-and-grin combination. Letting on his intel was far better than Tony assumed it to be was not mandatory but a Wayne-Exclusive to honor three decades of a friendship against all odds. “Okay. Is there anything else on the Panther? Rumor has it he's got some enhancements of the... herbal kind.” From where he had rubbed his face behind both palms, Tony peeked out between spread fingers.

“I don't care if he smokes weed everyday, Bruce.”  
Said man also palmed his face to wipe away the evident exasperation.  
“I'm talking about the Heart Shaped Herb Serum that grants him enhanced physiological capabilities.”

“Oh, that.”

“We might need to research the nutrients in it to see how long the effect lasts.”

“Are you saying you want to get jacked up on phyto-hormones?”

“It should at least remain an option.”

“Your butler's gonna kill the both of us if we turn you into a talking tree, or worse.”

“Who said I'd be the one using it?”  
It was said with such boldness that Tony could not help but to chuckle out loud.  
“Dude, let's compare suits here for a sec. I won't need no stinking plant power – I am Iron Man.”

“Which means you're only good for long-range fights. In close combat, you'll stand no chance against him.” Tony mulled over that for a second. Before he could find a counterargument, Bruce leaned forward on his thighs. “Speaking of which – I've seen some footage from Leipzig Airport. Who's that guy who can get as big as a ten-story apartment?” A shrug that seemed carefree enough, but Bruce knew better.

“Dunno. Must be from a different line of collectibles or something.” Palming his chin, Wayne tsked. “I'm starting to think it wasn't such a good idea to be on your team.” The way he said it fit the overall tone of their amicable, mutual roasting sessions, but something in Tony's eyes still became sensitive. “Boo hoo, Mister Overachiever. Okay, if you prefer Team 'Rroids, fine, go. I'll manage on my own.”

Bruce said nothing and only rubbed his index finger and thumb together. Tony scrunched up his face.

“Huh?”

“World's smallest violin, playing just for you.”

A small cushion made from a silky material flew his way, missing him by a calculated inch. Bruce did not even twitch.

“Now we're right back at boarding school.”  
  
Stark's white teeth bared at that.  
“Yeah, remember when you used to look up to me, Boo?"  
Wayne's expression remained steadfastly deadpan.

“That's because I was 11."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Their science-y tech slam lasted 72 hours. It took place over an endless playlist consisting of all KISS songs Tony had made his AI dig up and brought interesting results. Results like the fact that Bruce just did not approve of the chorus to 'Turn on the Night', no matter how many times Tony would sing it to his face. “Aw, c'mon, it's all about the silent letter K, how can you not find this funny?”

“I might be musically challenged.”

“Just musically?”

“Careful.”

“ _C'mon baby put your finger on the switch, let's make some sparks ignite.”_

Tony adjusted his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose and blew his friend a kiss over the massive setup of Stark Industries' laboratory equipment between them. The fact that Bruce had also slipped on a pair of expensive Zegna prescription eyeglasses earlier on made growing older a lot more bearable. Keeping a straight face at being serenaded once more, Bruce flipped the control button to the micro-calorimeter.

As the machine powered up, Wayne switched his designer glasses for a pair of massive welding goggles. He remained standing by the console to supervise the warming up process through a thick square of high-temperature quartz glass until he looked up and saw Tony's thumbs up sign. “Looking good, Boo. Stage two complete. Oh, but word of advice: Pure Vibranium has a mutagenic effect on the human body."

From his place on the other side of the huge cold field emission scanning electron microscope, Bruce cast him a goggle-eyed look that revealed no decipherable emotion whatsoever, seeing the goggles were so huge, they covered most of his face. Tony thus concluded with a wide-spread gesture. "Improved shielding and accurate dosimeters are of the essence for long-term usage.” Wayne pointed at the fridge in the corner.

“I reckon I'm better off not asking what all the chlorophyl shakes are for.” Tony dipped his head low, partly to confirm, partly to avoid exposure to the bright blue, ionic flames expelling from the customized mass-spectrometer. “That would be a wise decision.” It was then that Friday's voice echoed through the shop.

_Incoming call from Lieutenant-Colonel Rhodes, Boss._

“On headset, Fri.”

Prying off the Nitrile gloves with a little difficulty, Tony soon had wrestled the sleek device onto his ear.

“You're disturbing a mighty important vendetta slash tech-porn sesh here, Rhodey.”

“A good evening to you, too, Tones. Care to explain what any of that means?”

“We're gonna mosey over to Wakanda and kick the Panther's butt.”

“We? Who's we?”

James' voice displayed honest concern. Tony stole a glimpse over to the other side of the lab.

“Me and my darker equivalent. The Tony Stark of Gotham in the flesh. Mister B to the R to the U to...”

“Please tell me you didn't, and promise me you won't.”

Tony stole another glimpse at Bruce who was just testing out his enhanced prototype gauntlet on a piece of Vibranium. The metal cracked and shattered to the ground, causing a very jackal-like grin to appear on Stark's lips. “Did and will. Behold the genius billionaire horsemen of the philanthropic apocalypse.”

“God, are you drinking again?”

“Stone cold sober. My Boo's a teetotaler. But Bruce's also full of barely contained, inner rage which he basically generates like a renewable source of energy or something. All that power needs an outlet, and I'm only too happy to give him one. On top of an ion-exchanged and Stark-pimped badass armor.”

“There's a relationship implied there I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with, Tones.”

“No, but there really isn't. The only thing I am looking forward to in this world is a wild-eyed Batman staring down the big black, royal kitten. Except, no. Staring won't be all he's gonna do - right, Wayne?”

“Wait up, wait up-- what? What!? Bruce Wayne is Batm...”

The line clicked as the connection got cut.  
Tony looked over to where Bruce pointed a black little box into his direction.  
His expression was nondescript as always, but there was a slight twitch in his left eyebrow.

“Aw, c'mon, Rhodey is basically family.”

“No. Excuse.”

“Pepper knows, too, and that never bothered you.”

“Because I know her well, and she's the only sane and stable factor in your life.”

Tony averted his eyes and snorted, wiping over his mouth and muting his phone before putting it aside.

“Yeah, isn't... wasn't that something.”

Bruce also pocketed his device and watched his friend fiddle with the headset for the longest time.

“When?”

Just a simple word, but Tony had to fight hard against that sudden, tight feeling in his chest and throat.

“Coupla months ago. Four. Maybe more. Forget it.”

“You could have called me.”

“Is that what it says on your new business cards? Bruce Wayne: Billionaire, Vigilante, Therapist?”

“No.” Bruce distracted himself by refastening the elastic straps of his goggles and putting them back over his eyes. “Still.” They were delving far too deep into that redlining area of 'no feelings talk' again, so Tony batted his lashes in an exaggerated manner and stepped up to put a palm on the back of Bruce's hand. “You know what they say – true love only exists between men. I'm starting to think there's some truth in there.”

As expected, Wayne drew back in an instant while the corners of his mouth turned south.  
“I've never heard that before, and, just for the record - I'm not getting it on with you ever again.”  
Tony pouted, all of his prior display of weakness forgotten.

“I seem to recall you were quite into it at that time, tattooing your name onto my tonsils and such.”

“I wasn't even legal, we were both piss drunk, and that whole vacation was entirely your fault.”

“Ahh, yes, the good old days. But no worries, Boo, I ain't interested in your dick whatsoever.”

“Thank God.”

“Your ass, on the other hand...”

“Oh shut up, will you.”

~

Two days later, Tony stood and watched his friend getting suited up atop the platform of his workshop. It was almost like porn. Straight up tech-porn with a touch of vengeance. Too bad Bruce was not bi. Maybe Tony just needed to get him drunk again, post-mission, thriving on the successful outcome...

“I can see your perverted thoughts from over here. Snap out of it.”  
  
A modified, mechanic Bat growl caused Tony to give a toothy grin as his arms spread open wide. “Looks like you're ready to kick ass and take names, Iron Bat. Speaking of names - think I'll stick to that from now on. I like it. You'd make a great sidekick.” The tactical visor of the Batsuit's helmet slid open to reveal a scathing glare. “It is unwise to aggravate me at this point.”

To go with his snarled-out threat, he raised a gauntleted fist and displayed the flicker of an ionized canon atop his forearm. Waving him off with nonchalance, Tony also went to armor up. “Just leave the smack talk to me once we're there, then you have my permission to go ballistic.” Once he was tucked inside Mark 47, all systems green and ready to go, the hatch to the landing pad opened.

Stark raised an eyebrow when a black matte carbon aircraft materialized out of stealth mode. “No permission needed.” The corners of Bruce's mouth twitched. "You didn't really assume I was going to spend the flight in horizontal." Heading via Wakanda on Mach 4, Tony wondered when it was that Bruce had started to tip the scale on the badass-o-meter so much. Post-mission-drunk was going to happen any which way.

To distract himself (and Bruce), Tony then streamed the Jock Jams Megamix over their intercoms.   
On repeat.  
Let's get ready to rumble indeed.

  
THE END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Turn on the Night" by KISS (1987)  
> "ESPN presents the Jock Jam" (various artists, 1996)
> 
> A lot of credit to the 'Arkham Knight' Batsuit v8.03 which served as major inspo for the IronBat suit mentioned in this fic. Also, the aircraft at the end could easily be 'The Batwing' from said game, because it looks awesome (I don't know about stealth mode, though)
> 
> http://arkhamcity.wikia.com/wiki/Batwing


End file.
